


Summer Jams

by fleshcircuits



Series: Runaway Hats [1]
Category: Hat Films - Fandom, Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe, Casual Drug Use, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Runaway Hats AU, Weed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6583927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleshcircuits/pseuds/fleshcircuits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ross discovers Smith has an unexpected talent. Short drabble that's part of the Runaways AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Jams

Ross would never had guessed Smith to be musically inclined. It seemed patience for most things tends to run out very quickly, and Ross wouldn't have guessed he would have the attention span to learn any instrument. He discovers Smith's unlikely talent as they bask in one of London's many central parks, the three of them having merged with a large group of studenty sorts who offered them food from their smokey barbecue and a generous amount of weed. Trott sat next to him, joint hanging from between his fingers ("Mate, believe me, this is what my back needs after crashing in your car for a month."), meanwhile Smith spoke animatedly with a group of guys crowded near the barbecue. 

He watches Smith place his half-empty beer bottle on the grass, then points excitedly at the acoustic guitar another guy had across his lap. He sees the other guy nod happily and pass it up to him. Smith takes it with a grin, holds up five fingers, then comes back towards his friends with the old guitar.

"Nice lads," He says, dropping cross legged beside Ross and tuning the strings.

"I didn't know you played guitar," Ross admits, to which Trott hums in agreement.

"Been playing since I could hold one, mate." He flicks at the strings, "Might be a bit rusty though. It's been a while."

Smith starts to play. It's a chirpy, upbeat tune that gains in speed. Ross doesn't recognise it, though his music tastes were more ambient or whatever was top of the charts; but he taps along to the catchy tune with his foot. Before he can ask what song it is, he's caught off guard by Smith beginning to sing.

It doesn't sound like the gruff, loud friend he had came to know-- his voice is clear, confident and full of life. He bobs his head, continuing to play along, a bright smile on his face as he sings lyrics that Ross definitely doesn't recognise. Come to think of it, it sounds like country music. That... would be the last genre he would expect Smith to enjoy, let alone play and sing with such competence. 

"Folk?" He queries, when Smith's song fades out to just random snippets of chords he hums along to.

"Bluegrass," he specifies with a cheeky smile.

"You... really don't seem the country music type, y'know."

"I just," the other man rubs the back of his neck sheepishly, "I like music in general. Well, most of it. Used to really calm me down when I was little. Then I got put on all these meds and-- eh, I suppose I just didn't have the concentration for it." He pauses, picking at one of the faded stickers plastered over the borrowed guitar. "I know it's stupid--"

"It's not stupid," Trott pipes up, stubbing his roll up out on the ground, "Doing what makes you happy and helps you cope is never stupid. Especially if you're that into it."

Ross shrugs, "Well, what he said."

Smith still seems a bit uncertain, but eventually he starts strumming away again as Trott smokes and Ross lies back to bask in the summer sun. Their content was very much temporary, but as Ross dozes to the sound of Smith's voice he can think of no other place he would rather be.


End file.
